The Obligation of Matrimony
by DreamaLirit
Summary: Another Marriage Law fic! Set during 7th year and slightly AU, Hermione and Snape are forced to get married for the good of the Order and safety of all concerned. The war still happens but most major events are pushed back by a couple of years. Dumbledore is still alive, the Dark Lord has infiltrated the Ministry of Magic, all that good stuff.
1. Chapter 1

It was another one of those abysmal parties at the Malfoy Manor that had put Snape in such a bad mood. Lucius adored entertaining hundreds at his fancy home, decorated with silks, the tables set with china and crystal. It was the entertainment that he always failed to specify about though, and that was the very reason Severus never went anymore, unless ordered. The few times he did, he made his excuses as soon as possible and escaped that lavish hell hole.

Lucius's favourite entertainment was girls, writhing semi-nude around the room. He called it _dancing_ , although it was a far cry from any type of dancing Severus had ever witnessed. As the night drug on, alcohol poured from cut glass bottles, powder came out of pockets, and clothing (both the girls and the guests) came off. None of this was so bad though, he could have frequented those parties if it had not been for one fact that stood stark as the sun rose.

Those writhing girls never went home.

The very first party he ever threw, back during the Dark Lord's first reign, had been, as Lucius put it, 'epic'. Hundreds of guests flowing between the rooms, a full orchestra playing from a raised platform, delectable food and drink, and of course the writhing girls. Yet none of them knew what was going to happen that first time, so they all drank and ate and danced in their tuxedos until they were giddy and asked for a room. As for the writhing girls, Severus only knew their fate because of the terrible hangover he suffered, which had caused him to go down to the kitchen too early for some coffee. There, being 'taken care of' were the bodies of the young, pretty writhing girls, eyes still open from the curse that had hit them before they even knew what was happening. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but Severus found himself retching into the bushes, grabbed his coffee, and took refuge in his room. He haven't spent the night nor enjoyed himself with a writhing girl since.

Now, though, he had just escaped from a party and was making his way back to the dungeons of Hogwarts. It was certainly late, perhaps midnight, but not too late for the professors and adults of the castle. There was certainly no reason for him to quite literally run into a _student_ at such an hour.

At least he was back in his black cloaks and not in that miserable tuxedo, but it did not help the confrontation. The student ran directly into his chest as they were coming down the stairs, and he had to grab them by the arms so that they did not fall and deface themselves.

 _Stupid, clumsy students, walking around in the dark in a castle with moving staircases, trick stairs, and ghosts. You think they would have learned, but no, dumb, thick children._

"I...I'm sorry, so sorry Professor. I didn't see you, sir..." A girl was stammering over her words, and under no other circumstances would he have recognized her voice except for the fact that this one talked _so much_. The tip of his wand lit, and the girl, wide eyed, was nearly trembling, either from cold or fear or something else, he couldn't tell and didn't care to know.

"Miss Granger, what are you doing out of bed at this hour?"

"I'm Head Girl, sir-" he rolled his eyes. For being able to answer any question any teacher threw at her, she was horrible at what most people called 'street smarts'.

"You're Head Girl duties were over at least an hour ago, Miss Granger. You have no excuse for being out of bed, unless there is some horrid emergency in Gryffindor tower. Is that the case?" He knew he had her, and triumph curled the tips of his mouth into the tiniest bit of a smirk. The perfect little Miss Granger had finally gotten caught breaking the rules. Expulsion seemed like a wonderful idea.

"Well sir, um, an 'emergency' of sorts... I was just going to Madam Pomfrey; you needn't concern yourself, really." She was blushing and trying to edge down the hall to the infirmary, but his hand tightened like a vice around her wrist, and she winced.

"What sort of _emergency_ would leave you capable of running to the Hospital Wing at this hour," he sneered. She was probably trying to sneak off the library, or to some Ravenclaw lover in the other tower. He'd thought she was involved with the Weasley boy, but the lad was awfully dim for her.

"Please sir, I really just need to go to Madam Pomfrey..." She tried to pull her wrist free with more force than he thought her capable of, but he held fast.

"Students are not allowed to just go waltzing around the halls at any hours with pretend emergencies just because they have leadership roles, Miss Granger. You do good to remember that. Now, how many points should I take for this little infraction? 50? 100? Yes, 100 is a good number. You should be thankful I'm not dragging you to the headmaster."

Tears were slowly leaking down her face (Merlin, did girls always have to cry about everything?) "Please, Professor, I really, truly, need to see Madam Pomfrey. You don't understand."

"Did you not listen to a word I just said girl? Back up to your tower or else I'll take another 50 points." Gently, she removed her wrist from his grip and wiped her face.

"Sir, I need to go the infirmary to get some...um...feminine hygiene products." The sneer dropped from his face.

 _Merlin, Severus, why do you always have to be a bastard at the worst possible moments?_ Sure enough, as she sprinted down the hall, a bright circle of blood stood out on her shorts. He turned and fled to the dungeons, bludgeoning himself the whole way.

 _The points, Severus, you really ought to give her back the points._

Stupid conscience. A wave of his hand restored those sparkling rubies back in their hour-glass as he collapsed onto his bed. Sleep finally claimed him at about two in the morning.

҉

After Hermione got what she needed, she made her way back to her dorm.

 _Merlin that was embarrassing._

As if it's not bad enough to wake up to mind numbing cramps in the middle of the night to a period that has gone completely off schedule, she had to run into a professor. And not just any professor, because any other would have let her go and see Madam Pomfrey without an interrogation. But no, of course he would make her wait, embarrassment growing as he made a speech, as she grew desperate to get what she needed. Now though, lying up her in bed, she could cool her cheeks and try and slip off the sleep.

It wasn't really _that_ bad, she thought, and he had been far more embarrassed than she was. As long as everything was normal tomorrow in class, and it would be. And as long as no house points were missing, although she doubted he would withhold them now.

The next thing she knew she was waking up and traipsing down to the Great Hall with Ron and Harry in tow. They both ate too much, although in her opinion they always seemed to eat too much, at every opportunity.

 _Why do boys shovel everything possible down their throats, and then surface for more?_

Before mail had even arrived, she went off to the library, promising to meet up in class. Luck of the draw, Potions was first. An unofficial seating order had come about in the first few months, and now everyone knew where to sit. She had pulled Harry and Ron onto the front row, although now she regretted that slightly.

Snape made his appearance and class proceeded as normal. Harry got the worst of his criticism for everything, yet he seemed to hold back a few comments from Hermione. He still didn't call on her every time she raised her hand or speak in a less harsh tone, but he bit back the scathing remarks he normally threw at them. A minute before the clock was about to chime and they were cleaning and packing their bags, he cocked his head at her from behind his desk. She scurried forward, heart pounding.

"Sit, Miss Granger." She plopped down, and he took a long breath before talking. "I wanted to...apologize for my actions last night, and assure you that no house points were missing. That's all."

"Thank you sir." He waved his hand and she went back to Ron and Harry, who had been putting back supplies and hadn't even known she was gone.

At lunch she was surprised to receive a letter. Mail always arrived during breakfast, but then she remembered that she had felt the pull of the books and had left before her owl had even had the chance to arrive. It had the Ministry of Magic stamp on it, so she broke the seal and read.

 _Dear Miss Granger,_

 _We are pleased to inform you of a new marriage law which went into effect today, November Eleventh. (See Clause 182, Marriage Law, Section 2A) To help increase population all witches and wizards between the ages of seventeen and fifty are being asked to wed and produce at least two children (one within the first year of marriage). A list of suitors has been provided for you who live/work near your place of residence. Please take careful consideration before picking a match. Your wedding date has been set as November 29_ _th_ _._

 _-Mr. Walden Alder, age 23, bounty hunter_

 _-Mr. Gerlind Heinrich, age 35, broom maker_

The list went on until she spotted a few familiar names close to the bottom.

 _-Mr. George Weasley, age 20, entrepreneur_

 _-Mr. Fred Weasley, age 20, entrepreneur_

 _-Mr. Severus Snape, age 37, professor_

 _Thank you for your time and consideration. Economic assistance is available (apply within five days of wedding) as asked for._

 _Have a wonderful day!_

 _Viveca Ull_

She wasn't able to seriously consider the letter until all her classes were done for the day, her homework was complete, and she had successfully sealed herself in her bedroom. That was when she allowed herself to freak out, calm down, and think.

Ron hadn't reached his 17th birthday, and wouldn't by the wedding date.

 _Curse early birthdays_. _And that time turner business probably didn't help._

Harry wasn't eligible either, although he was like a brother to her. Still, he was better than the strangers on the list. Although not all of them were strangers.

She knew three people on the list. Fred and George. She buried her head in her pillow for a moment before thinking about it. How could she do that to Ron? Marry one of his brothers after they had been friends and skirted around a relationship for so long? Plus, how was she supposed to pick between them? Would she have to move in with her choice and floo to the school, or would they live together after she graduated? Fred or George certainly didn't seem like a bad choice. To break up the Weasley family, over marrying one of Ron's brothers...

But Snape was the only name left, and under no circumstances would she ever marry him. She looked back at the letter- "Wed and produce at least two children, one within the first year of marriage". Merlin, how could she ever do that with any of the people on the list, much less the three she knew? Neither choice was appealing, but at least she knew Fred and George, and at least she was comfortable with them.

Maybe a professor would know what to do. Yes, Professor McGonagall had always known the right thing to do, and she was in the Order.

҉

Snape had received the letter that morning, before breakfast, and had the expected reaction.

A _marriage law?!_

He slammed the paper onto his desk, cursing the Ministry. How could they try and meddle in his private affairs like this? But of course it was being run by those loyal to the Dark Lord, which explained a lot. Nothing would let him circumvent the law, either, or else it would look like he was being unfaithful to his Master.

"Curse you," he muttered, scanning the names. Women around his age and younger, all strangers.

 _They couldn't possible expect me to marry a stranger, not with my personality._

At the very end of the list was one name he recognized, and he blanched at it.

 _-Miss Hermione Granger, age 17, student_

As if they could expect him to wed and have children with a student.

 _Merlin, marrying the Granger girl, how awful would that be?_

She was much too young for a man like him, a man whose cohorts were Death Eaters, murderers, and spies, who himself _was_ a spy.

His clock chimed. It was time for the Order meeting, one called to deal with this precise event, no doubt. He went through the floo to that dog's house and sat in the corner, waiting for the meeting to start. Eventually everyone tumbled in, a few idiots even rang the doorbell, but they were finally all seated around the table, Molly Weasley fussing over tea and biscuits.

"Ladies and gentleman, we have a bit of a problem," Albus began.

 _What an understatement_.

He went over the details of the law and took questions, yet offered no solution as to how to deal with those affected. As Snape brooded, Albus turned his gaze to him.

"Now Severus, I believe you got a letter in the mail with selections available. Have you made your choice yet?" He produced the letter and passed it to the Headmaster under a watchful audience.

"No, I haven't been able to narrow it down yet." His words were laced with sarcasm as Albus scanned the list, muttering to himself about each name. His eyes brightened considerably at one suggestion.

"Hermione Granger is listed; I believe she would be a suitable match." If he could have exploded in a fit of rage he would have. Hexing the Headmaster is a good way to get fired, however, so he restrained himself.

"From my point of view, I don't think we'd be a...good match. And I certainly don't want to marry and have _children_ with her." The rest of the Order was silent, waiting for Albus's verdict. To add to his rage, he laughed.

"You two would be a wonderful match! You're both intelligent and love books, she plans to be a teacher and you are one. Most importantly, you're both on the same side in this war. You can't just marry a random woman and then have to explain that you're a double agent. And age, Severus, is just a number. Besides, who wouldn't want a pretty young thing to warm their bed after so many years alone?" He stood in indignation that his own wants were being completely overridden. The old man was crazy.

"Albus, I have no desire whatsoever to marry a _child_ , and I am certain she feels the same. You can't possibly expect us to wed, it's preposterous."

"She is no child, Severus, and frankly you have no other choice. Selecting any other woman from this list could endanger the Order and our Cause, which is much too great of a risk to take. Miss Granger will understand." Minerva stood then, coming to the defense of her favourite little Gryffindor.

"Severus is right, Albus, you can't possibly force them into a union like this. Miss Granger is young and has so much of a life ahead of her. Some of the possibilities on her list are much more appropriate- a couple of the Weasley boys are available, and they would make a very suitable match. We implore you, see reason here." But the set of Albus's eyes could not be persuaded.

"There may be other options on Miss Granger's list, but not on Severus's, and that's the one we're concerned with. There simply is no other option, and Miss Granger will understand that, she's a wise girl. We'll meet with her- Minerva, Severus, and I, when we get back to school."

They got back to the school much too soon, and Snape found himself standing and frowning in the Headmasters office as the sun crept over the horizon. Minerva was seated and wore about the same distasteful expression. Only Albus sat at his desk, a content smile on his face as he continued to try and convince Snape that this would be beneficial for all parties. All about Miss Granger being a young, pretty thing and they would learn how to live together and he was sure that the children would be handsome. The soliloquy stopped when a living, breathing Miss Granger stepped into the room.

It was short and to the point. He stood in the back, glaring down on the scene. Minerva held the girl's hand and whispered assurances, and Albus explained everything in all the details required. In the reflection in the window panes he could see her going from flesh coloured to pale and then paler, clutching Minerva's hand tight and tighter still. As he got to the end of his speech, he gave her a little smile and asked if she had any questions.

"I...I don't want to be rude but...do I have to?" Her teeth worried her bottom lip as she glanced at the professors in the room.

"You are no happier with the proposition than I am, Miss Granger, but the Headmaster has now assured both of us that this is vital."

"But I don't want to marry anyone, at least not at the moment. I want to go to university and get a good job and then maybe get married and all the rest." Severus stepped forward.

"We are at war, Miss Granger, which means that what you _want_ is completely irrelevant at the moment. For the good of all, we are going to get married, and that is that, so please stop griping about it." She frowned at it but stopped talking, trying to prove that she wasn't griping. He sighed. "I have to go get ready for class," and swept out of the room.

 **Thank you so much for reading! I would also greatly appreciate your reviews and constructive criticism.**

 **-DreamaLirit**


	2. Chapter 2

"You're going to _marry_ Professor _Snape_?" Ginny questioned in astonishment. Hermione had put off telling her friends, but a week from when she got the letter; she'd finally cracked and mentioned it as casually as possible.

They were all up in the Common Room on a Saturday night, so there wasn't a lot of homework to do and nobody was too cranky, so she'd taken advantage of the atmosphere and gotten her friends together. Harry and Ron had been livid, shouting about how horrible Professor Snape was, how horrible the law was, how horrible this and that was, until Ginny had slipped a calming draught into their drinks. That had persuaded them up to bed, and now she had to deal with Ginny.

"It's for the good of the Order," had been her explanation all night, but Ginny didn't want an explanation, she wanted to talk about the actual impending marriage. Where was she going to live, was she still going to have classes as usual, what was she going to wear for the ceremony, all those little mundane details.

Hermione hadn't given much thought to the details. The marriage was necessary and she supposed they would live together for at least awhile. She would still be a student and attend all of her classes just has she had before this horrendous obligation on her person. What to wear? That hardly mattered.

She began planning her arguments for things he wasn't keen on her doing, like spending time with the friends he didn't like. Somehow they would live with this, and maybe even find contentment. After all, Hermione Granger never backed down from a challenge, and she was the brightest witch of her age.

҉

Weeks passed and nothing happened. Classes continued and the drudgery remained just as it was before that awful day when his world had tipped on its head. The only difference was that he knew what was coming and he wasn't happy about it. He had never wanted to get married, not since Lily, and now that he was being forced into it, he felt disrespectful of her and her memory.

 _At least she doesn't have red hair._

That would be awful, if she had red hair and he accidently called her the wrong name. Sometimes when he saw Ginny Weasley from behind he found himself back in a schoolboy's mind and almost had the urge to call after her to wait up, he wanted to walk with her. But of course it wasn't Lily and he wasn't schoolboy, which he had to remind himself sometimes.

Then, oh so suddenly, it was the Friday before the wedding, and his last Potions class held Miss Granger and her horrid little group of friends. She sat silent the entire class period, never talking nor answering any questions, even when no one raised their hands. He would wait, thinking maybe she was just formulating the perfect answer, but she never would. The class was awkward and quiet without the talkative girl, and he ended class early just so they would talk amongst themselves and add some noise to the depressingly quiet room.

 _The wedding is tomorrow, Severus, it's no wonder she isn't talking._

He had tried not to think about that. The wedding meant so much change would be forced upon him. Just looking at her and thinking about it all was disconcerting.

Then he was waking up and having to get ready for his _wedding_ of all things. It would happen at seven in the evening, after dinner was over. Miss Granger would have the whole day to get ready, if she needed it, and then they would wed.

 _Is she nervous? Because I am, though Merlin knows I won't tell her that._

He showered and got dressed and went about his day as normal, trying to avoid any and all thoughts of the impending marriage.

҉

Hermione had gone wedding dress shopping over the weekends, a task forced on her by Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood. It was slightly surreal to actually be putting on the dress to wear to the ceremony though.

 _Will he think I look pretty?_

It didn't really matter, she told herself, and shook her head as she attempted to tame her hair. A bath that morning had left it wet, and when it was wet it was more manageable. Ginny and Professor McGonagall had helped her with her clothes, makeup, and hair, turning her into a real bride, a beautiful bride. She hardly recognized the girl looking back at her from the mirror, all pink lips and long lashes and shining locks.

She stepped into the Headmasters office and a moment later Snape entered. He wore a tuxedo and his hair wasn't greasy like normal, but she was still somber. Her emotions were fit for a funeral but the dress screamed of the wedding that was taking place.

 _White's not my colour._

After signing their respective names on the marriage certificate, Dumbledore was all smiles and told them a few other rules about the new marriage. Mandatory intercourse once a week until conceiving a child; there must be proof of pregnancy within six months of the wedding date; the list went on and on.

Finally, the Headmaster let them go down to Snape's quarters, an awkward, silent walk. Once they arrived he showed her which bedroom would be hers and left her to change, asking her to come back to the living area when she was done. She pulled on some jeans and a sweater, avoiding the sweatpants she normally wore in the evenings.

 _Don't want him to think you're lazy or anything._

He was in his normal robes, sitting in an armchair reading the paper when she came in. He gestured for her to sit down, and she picked the armchair opposite his. He folded up his paper and began.

"Though we will be sharing these quarters, I do have a few rules that I would like to instate, some boundaries, if you will. My study is off-limits. If you need me and I'm in there, knock on the door. That is my space and I intend to keep it that way. You are strictly forbidden from my laboratory. My experiments and notes are no business of yours, and there is nothing you need to see or know stored in there. We have separate bedrooms for a reason-keep your things in there, as I keep mine in my rooms. I have a house elf at my disposal should you need or want anything, his name is Alvar. Don't worry, he's free and works for me willingly. And you are to address me as Professor or Sir in public. Any questions?" She thought for a moment.

"What books am I allowed to read?" She gestured to the bookcases lining the walls of the living space, and he glanced at them. Of course her first care would be about books.

"Any book in here is at your disposable-if you want one from my study, bedroom, or lab, you'll have to ask."

"What are we going to do about a baby?" One of his eyebrows rose.

"You need to be clearer on that subject Miss Granger. What about a child?"

"I'm not Miss Granger anymore," she reminded him before continuing. "When we have the mandatory child, are you going to enlarge our quarters with a third bedroom for them, or are they going to stay in my room, or are we going to start sharing a room and the baby will have the second room?" He sighed.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

҉

Hermione didn't know how long she had been asleep, but she knew it had been a long time. It had been a restless night and she had tossed and turned for hours, had adjusted this and that about her new bedroom and then tried to go to sleep. But sleep had evaded her in these new quarters, in these new circumstances, and she wondered if that was ominous for the rest of her life, if her body didn't trust the place enough to let her drift off.

Snape would probably be up already, and with that in mind she pulled herself out of bed, showered and then went to the living room to see if he was there. She wondered if he would wait for her so they could go to breakfast together, or if his personal habits wouldn't be disturbed by her.

To her surprise he was waiting for her but appeared quite put out by it. He stood abruptly when she entered the room and went to the door, accepting that she would simply follow him. She crossed her arms and planted her feet, now determined to stay.

"I was thinking maybe Alvar could bring us breakfast and we could eat here. That way we could talk, get to know each other." He glared at her from the doorway.

"I'll deal with you later," he sneered and slammed the door shut. Now she definitely couldn't go to breakfast in the Great Hall as much as she wanted to. She wanted to go and talk with Harry and Ron and act as if everything was normal, as if they were all students, all Gryffindors, together still.

But it was probably best if she stayed here, that would mean fewer questions, fewer inquires about what had happened, what Snape's quarters looked like, etc. Things would be calmer here and she could relax, read a book while having some bangers and toast maybe. Yes that sounded perfect, an ideal way she would have spent a morning at her parents' home, so why not do it here?

She called Alvar and he brought up some food and then curled up with a book in the armchair, trying to balance everything and eat simultaneously. It was a good book about the repression of witches and wizards back in the 11th century. It had been on Snape's bookshelf, a surprising find but she had snatched it up since it was out here in the living area.

He came back and found her balancing an empty plate on her knee while engrossed in her book. The door slamming shut caused her to jump and the precarious harmony that she had struck shattered, along with the plate. That just caused his glare to deepen, even though she repaired the plate and Alvar came and took it back to the kitchens. Now she stood under his gaze, wondering what he had meant earlier by 'deal with you later'. She supposed 'later' had come, but what did 'deal with her' mean?

"Not only do you not show your face at breakfast, which aroused plenty of gossip, you make a mess of my living quarters." She opened her mouth to say all she had done was break one plate and then put it back together, but he cut her off. "Why did you refuse to come to the Great Hall this morning?" He seemed personally offended by her wanting to take breakfast here, a confrontation she had been unprepared for.

"I just didn't want to have to answer everybody's questions about the wedding and such, is that so awful?" He moved closer to her, within a few steps, and the volume of his speech increased to where he wasn't quite shouting, not yet.

"Do you know what people started whispering about when you weren't there to sit with those imbeciles you call friends? That I'd hurt you and worse, that you were in such bad shape that you couldn't get out of bed, wouldn't show how bad you looked in the dining hall. Do you know what that will do to my reputation?" Her nose wrinkled.

"I was under the impression you didn't care about your reputation, you being the bat of the dungeons and all." He moved so close to her he filled her whole vision, and she could feel his breath on her face when she looked up to meet his eyes.

"There is very little I care about in this world, Miss Granger, but I will not have children and professors alike running around saying that I abuse women. I shan't stand for it, and if I have to drag you out in public to prove that you are indeed fine, so be it. You _will_ come to lunch _and_ dinner in the Great Hall, understand?"

"I'm not a child, you can't order me around. In case you don't remember, we're married, and marriage is a partnership, which means we talk about things, we compromise. It would have looked fine if you had just stayed here this morning." He gripped her arm and shook it a bit, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to scare her a bit.

"You will _not_ speak to me that way in my own house." This was worse than any time he'd been upset at students in the Potions classroom and for all his talk about not abusing women, Hermione felt her heart flutter.

"I am your husband and you will respect me. _I_ did not want to stay for breakfast this morning, but perhaps if you had woken up on time we wouldn't have had such an issue. I'm not going to wake you up every day; you're old enough to do that yourself." She bit her lip and pulled her arm, but he held fast.

"Let go, Severus." Out of spite he gripped her tighter and she yanked harder, for the first time truly afraid of the man towering over her. "Please, it's starting to hurt, let go." She pulled harder and he freed her, leaving pink finger marks under her sweater.

She turned and fled back to her room, leaving him standing there. Her room needed refurbishing anyway, she told herself, and set about changing this and that. Avoiding Gryffindor and Slytherin colors, she made the walls lavender and the bedspread white. She'd have to ask Snape for a bookshelf to put all her books on- she'd shrunk them and brought them down here with her. Her pictures and such went on the walls, a desk in the corner, and a cat bed for Crookshanks. Of course the cat refused to sleep in it, preferring to sleep with Hermione herself, but it was there nonetheless.

Crookshanks had demanded to stay in Gryffindor tower instead of come with Hermione down to Snape's quarters, but perhaps a night without her would convince the stubborn cat. But would Snape be okay with a cat? That was another thing on a long list of things they hadn't discussed.

She ventured out fifteen minutes early for lunch, determined that he wouldn't find any more faults with her, at least not today. It was certainly a record for how fast a married couple had fought, their first full day of being married, and they were already at war with one another. But if Hermione was sure of one thing, she was sure she could at least learn how to live with the man. Her parents had had a wonderful marriage and going off their example, she could at least form a union she could live with. She wouldn't give up so easily, they just had to get used to this new life together. Her parents had told her as much.

This time she waited for him. Her book was still on the chair so she cracked it open and read it until he showed up several minutes later. She didn't want to look as if she'd been waiting for him, but she wanted to appear ready so as not to annoy him. When the door to his study opened and he came in she attempted a small smile and stood up.

"Did you get some good work done?" He looked at her suspiciously, as if wary of the fact that she was talking to him. Maybe a question wasn't the best way to start things, since he didn't like to talk about himself.

"I got my room decorated, and I like to think it looks pretty nice, although do you think we could move a bookshelf in there? I've got a pretty good collection going and I'd like to put them up. Oh, and Crookshanks, what are we going to do about him? I never got to ask you if you were okay with a cat." She blinked at him, waiting for him to talk, but he seemed overwhelmed by the sheer amount of words that had come out of her mouth.

"Certainly you can have a bookshelf," he finally stated, and she grinned. "Now about a cat... I've never liked animals, and I have no love for felines especially." The smile disappeared.

"But I can't just get rid of the poor darling! I'm the only one who loves him, he needs me, please can't I at least keep him in my room, just my room? Doesn't he count amongst my possessions, and you said you didn't care what I kept in there." The argument reminded her very much of a teenager begging a parent for something, not a debate between a husband a wife.

"'The poor darling'? From what I've heard about that cat of yours is a horrible hairball." She opened her mouth to beg, to protest, but he held up a hand. "But if you just love the beast so much then you can keep it in your room and your room only. If it gets out in this house and rips up my furniture and destroys the place he's out, no second chances, understood?" She nodded vehemently.

There was an awkward pause then of silence, neither of them really knowing what to say. Hermione remembered exactly why they were in the same room to begin with.

"Well, shall we go off to lunch?" She asked and he nodded, going to hold the door open for her and then walking beside her. They were a silent, odd-looking couple and they went their separate ways once they got to the dining hall.

 _But at least you've pacified him._

She sat and ate with Harry and Ron who talked and laughed with her and mercifully didn't ask her any questions. Luna surprisingly sat with them and if it looked like the boys were getting curious she would inject something into the conversation to steer them onto a different topic. Ginny sat with them too and quelled anything if the boys broke through the Luna defense, and Hermione realized with a sudden passion that she truly did have wonderful friends.

When lunch was over she trudged back to where Snape was standing, wondering what she was going to do for the afternoon trapped down in the dungeons. Of course she could always do homework, but she had wanted to that in the library and wasn't fond of asking if she could go someplace. More than anything she wanted them to talk about some things, but Snape wanted to do anything but talk.

They walked in silence back down to his rooms, and when they were inside she turned to him.

"Are we going to talk about things?" He looked at her questionably, as if he didn't know what they would have to talk about, or he at least didn't want to. "We need to talk about all of the little details of married life. It won't take long, come on, let's just sit down and chat." His eyebrow rose.

"I do not 'just sit down and chat'." He sighed, "What is it you want to discuss, because I have work to do and would like to get to it." She withheld the grin of triumph from her face and went down the mental list.

"What am I allowed to do and not do? Because I wanted to go to the library after lunch today, but I didn't know if you'd let me, so we need to figure out what we're okay with the other doing without having to ask. And what are we going to do with the Order, because technically I won't be in it until I graduate but if you're leaving in the middle of the night I'd like to know where you're going-" He cut her off then, as he always did, not letting her finish her thoughts.

"Personally I don't really care what you do or where you go so long as it's in the castle and it does not involve infidelity; you needn't ask me to go to the library of all places. This _we_ business though is going to be difficult, because I'm going to do whatever I please just as I did before you invaded my personal space." Her brow wrinkled in indignation but he continued. "As for Order meetings or my disappearing in the middle of the night, all of that is my business and my business alone. One, it could endanger you should circumstances arise, and two you don't need to know where I'm going."

"You're my husband; I have every right to know where you're going!" He chuckled darkly and walked over to stand in front of his study door.

"Just because we are wed does not mean I have to change all my ways. Should I be going to a Death Eater meeting or an Order meeting that is up to me alone to know. If I am going to somewhere else entirely, that is, again, for me to know." Hermione raced over and stood on her toes in front of him, glaring threateningly.

"Should you be consorting with whores you will soon find yourself without a wife." He smiled dangerously and traced her hairline with a fingertip. An involuntary shudder of uneasiness ran down her spine.

"I will do as I please, now don't you have some homework to do?" His cloak snapped as he turned and closed the door to his study, leaving her fuming, especially because he was right, and she would have to get to work if she wanted some free time this evening. So she sat huffing at her desk trying to concentrate on her homework for a few hours, furious but trying to calm down.

 _This marriage is going to be the end of me at this rate._


	3. Chapter 3

Severus went to bed that night frustrated. That little wife of his had been exceedingly annoying, even more than normal. Living with her was going to be a real chore, he could already tell. He swallowed some Dreamless Sleep and laid back, darkness claiming him within minutes.

The next morning there were classes, so he was up early and reading the paper in the living area, having forgotten about Hermione temporarily. His heart lept to his throat when he heard a creaking, but then reminded himself that he was married and that wife of his was probably getting ready for school.

 _You're going to have to teach her, Severus._

She wouldn't be in his potions class today, but she would eventually. Of course he would treat her like he always had, but things would be different. They lived together, and once a week they would be forced to be intimate. Eventually a child would have to come into the picture as well, and he wasn't sure how that was going to work. He had no problem with her going to university but she would have to live with him, especially if a child was involved.

He waited for her so they could go together to breakfast and when she came out in her school robes he swallowed thickly. Here she was a student still, one he'd been teaching for years, and now they were married. A small piece of guilt shot into his stomach but dissolved like ice. She was his wife; he could do what he liked with her. It wasn't his fault how their matrimony was forced.

They separated for breakfast and he sat with the professors. Minerva sat next to him and cast a silent, heavy gaze from him to Hermione and back again, asking questions in her mind. He ate silently, trying to avoid her eyes. If she really wanted to know something so bad she could open her mouth and ask. He refused to be baited into it.

"How was the weekend Severus?" He glanced at her over his cup. She raised her eyebrow like she did with students, an impatient look on her face. He couldn't skip around her questions, not when her favorite little Gryffindor was involved.

"She's fine Minerva. She'll get used to putting up with me." The woman pursed her lips and drank, dabbing the corners of her mouth with her napkin. She would say something, he knew it, but she was formulating the perfect response.

"You be good to her Severus, she's only 17 you know." The woman couldn't tell him not to touch her darling Princess of the Golden Trio but she could lecture him, warn him. He speared a piece of meat and cut a glare at her.

"She's of age; she'll be fine no matter what I do with her. And I don't do that much with her." He took a bite of food and chuckled. "Except argue, of course, she's an expert at arguing." Immediately Minerva jumped to the girl's defense.

"We've put her in a very stressful situation, you can't expect her to just settle in and be calm about it. She has to adjust to life with you and vice versa. I'm sure you two can get along if you'd only try." He shook his head, not wanting to argue with another woman. Instead he went down to his classroom which, of the moment, was peaceful and student free.

It smelled like herbs and potions ingredients, and the coolness of the dungeons was soothing. Although Severus had always desired to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions would have been his second choice, and it could be worse. He could be stuck in Runes or Muggle Studies or something like that, so Potions in the long run suited him well enough.

Soon the peace was interrupted by students though, and his calm demeanor faded into the professor that everyone else knew. Calm was something difficult to come by lately, especially with the wedding and such.

Lunch came about eventually and he saw Hermione gobbling down her food and then running off, presumably to the library. She spent too much time there, he mused, and perhaps that was why her friends were so abysmal. Not that he'd had the greatest friends in school either, but he'd had Lily until 7th year and then Lucius and others had replaced her. Or replaced her to the extent that you could replace that copper haired beauty who still haunted his dreams and nightmares.

When dinner came and went he waited for Hermione in the shadows. She said goodbye to her friends, laughing, and turned to him. The smile and laughter faded instantly as if his very presence commanded seriousness, a formality to her attitude. Her bag pulled her shoulder down and a sliver of white shoulder peeked out.

They walked in silence down to their rooms and disappeared inside. That was how things went for the rest of the week, but, he thought with some relief, at least they weren't shouting at each other every waking minute. His own parent's marriage hadn't been nearly as good, so he was content for them to live separate lives under the same roof.

Fighting brought back memories of his childhood, of when his father had raised his fist at both his mother and him. He never, ever, wanted to become so enraged that he struck Hermione, for in that moment he would become like his father, and that was a person he had sworn he would never, ever, turn into.

Friday night she asked if she could spend the night in Gryffindor Tower. With tight lips he consented and thanked her for asking first, proving just how formal the relationship was. She smiled and skipped off, happier with those few words than she had been the entire week with him.

Saturday she'd spent most of the day out and about with her friends, leaving him to brood and work in his lab. His lab was attached to his bedroom while his study was an offshoot of the main room. The bedroom Hermione now occupied had been nonexistent before, but with a little magic he'd pulled it out of the walls.

Saturday night marked a week since their wedding.

They ended up talking after their mandatory time together, the awkwardness clinging to their skin. And of course it turned into a confrontation, as all their conversations did.

"You flinch every time I touch you. Why?" It came out more demanding than he'd meant it.

"I'm just...I've never been intimate with anyone before and...It's weird, how my body responds. Do you expect me to just let you touch me, to jump in bed with you whenever you like? And I don't want you to find something wrong with me." He blanched.

"Wrong with you? I doubt I'm going to find anything that wrong with you." She laughed mirthlessly.

"You haven't seen my top half yet. That might make you change your mind." He frowned and slipped his fingers under her top, tugging gently. She kept her arms down but didn't protest, and he slowly worked her shirt off, then her bra.

There was a large scar, a thick patch of skin that stretched from under one breast and down to the end of her ribcage. She kept her arms rigid at her sides, staring at the floor. The tips of his fingers traced along the deep cut, and although she didn't flinch, she wouldn't meet his eyes. He pressed his hand over it.

"Is this what you think is wrong with you?" She stepped away from his hands, folding her arms over her breasts but leaving the scar partially exposed.

"I haven't seen your chest either. Is there something you're hiding?" Slowly he reached up and began to unbutton his own shirt. His robes and shirt fell to the floor, revealing a lean, not quite muscular chest.

There were a few scars crisscrossing his skin, he wasn't covered in them, but he had enough. All of him was pale, but the scars were raised flesh, easily discernable in the light. She came toward him, one arm covering herself while another raised its hand and then let its fingers trace the paths of his scars.

"How did you get these?" She whispered, her fingers not wanting to follow every line. He pushed his own hand under her breast to her scar.

"The same way you got yours. If the Dark Lord isn't pleased with you, he tortures you. Sometimes the result are scars. My back looks the same way." She blinked at him and pressed a hand over his heart where there was a particularly nasty cut, nearly five centimeters wide and two times as long.

"Did he...did he try to kill you?" He shook his head.

"My father wasn't very good to me." Her eyes widened and she stared at his chest again, trying to figure out what was magic and what was muggle work.

"But this one is so large, and... How could a father do this to his own child?" He pushed her hand down his side, to a patch of smooth skin.

"A belt buckle caught and ripped, although most of his handiwork shows on my back. This is mainly the Dark Lord's doing. Nothing to be afraid of."

 _Something to be ashamed of, though. You don't even look in the mirror anymore._

She backed away from him and moved to pull her shirt back on. He followed suit and excused himself, not realizing until later that he never asked how she'd gotten her scar, he'd just assumed it had been from the fight in the Ministry. Maybe it wasn't that at all, maybe she had gotten that awful looking thing from something else entirely and she just never said. He shook his head-she was a straight forward girl, she would have told him if she'd gotten it some other way, via attack or something else.


	4. Chapter 4

She grew to accept it, these weekly sessions, every Saturday evening. They alternated on whose bedroom they coupled in, slowly growing more comfortable in each. Hermione snuck a peek into Severus's lab; Severus examined her bookshelf and photos. It was the night they fell asleep in the same bed, though, that became a landmark.

They had been in his room and had finished. A lightning storm had struck up during their tryst and thunder came rolling down to the very bowels of the castle.

It turned very quickly into a violent storm, sending tree boughs thrashing violently, rain pounding every inch of the castle, and wind howling around the eaves. For the first time in years, Hermione cowered at the idea of a thunder storm, although she tried to pluck up the Gryffindor courage that had never failed her before.

 _It's just a little rain, and light, and sound, all mixed together to sound frightening, but it's really not. It's nature, science, that's all._

Regardless, the next thunderclap, which shook a glass of water on the nightstand, nearly sent her diving under the covers. She didn't want to appear easily scared in front of Snape, but she couldn't help it. Human beings were naturally afraid of too loud noises and too bright light.

She felt a hand on her back, warm and lightly calloused and turned her neck to see that Severus had moved under the sheets with her, had not quite slipped his arm around her. Her head relaxed onto the pillow as the hand rubbed circles on her spine, soothing her, although the very air seemed to quake throughout the storm.

The next thing she knew it was morning and there was a loose but strong arm around her, pining her to the bed. She couldn't move, could barely breathe, and panic set in as she wondered exactly where she was and what was going on.

Then she realized that she had fallen asleep last night in Severus's room after they were intimate, though she had never fallen slept there before. And he was actually _holding_ her of all things. She tried to extract herself slowly and quietly, but years of playing double agent made him spring to life almost immediately.

She was pink and had the blanket pulled tight to her chest when he realized what was going on. Never would Hermione Granger have guessed that her Potions Master could stammer, or blush, but he did both, quickly letting her up. She grabbed her clothes and left, not knowing what to do or say to make the situation any better.

They still didn't talk that much, beyond the usual 'how was your day', 'did you get a lot of work done', or 'are you doing anything this weekend/evening'. Hermione was not that much closer to truly _knowing_ her Potions Master, besides the one private conversation they'd had about their scars.

But he'd _held her_ , put an arm around her when she was afraid, which was an achievement in the marriage if she'd ever seen one. By no means did they have a perfectly amicable relationship, they still fought often enough, but it wasn't all shouting and duty anymore. There were a few peaceful evenings when he would read the paper in an armchair and she would curl up on the sofa, stroking Crookshanks and reading a book.

Just the other week though, they'd had another screaming match, about school nonetheless. He said he would be turning all her assignments over to the Headmaster to grade, as being her husband giving her grades would seem biased. She had shot back that he had always given her lower marks than she deserved and why would that change now? It wasn't as if he cared about her.

That had stung him, she knew, and he had gone off on a lecture about students and teachers and appropriate relationships to be maintained. The fighting had gotten out of hand over such a stupid subject, and eventually she had gone to her room and charmed her door shut, effectively ending the argument.

Last night, though, had apparently smoothed over some tensions. She sat in her room, thinking about what had happened that was different than before. No deep conversation that she could remember, or particularly happy moments between them.

Today was a Hogsmeade weekend, and Snape planned to be out all day running errands. He'd told her as much before they'd gone to his bedroom the night before, and she had refused politely when he asked if she'd like to go with him. It wasn't supposed to be good weather and it being December and getting close to the holidays, shopping would be chaotic. She'd much rather stay inside and read, thank you.

She curled up in a sweater with Crookshanks, rereading her favorite book. Not even halfway through the cat lept off her lap and slunk through the door into Severus's bedroom. Hermione lept up and darted after him, hoping there wouldn't be damage.

The cat had slipped into the study and was sitting by the fireplace, tail swishing. Hermione stooped to pick up him up and couldn't help but notice something shiny lying in the ashes.

An engraved silver mask lay discarded in the fireplace. Her fingers stretched toward it involuntarily and she picked it up, dusting it off carefully. Crookshanks sat at her feet quietly, blinking in understanding.

Then Severus clattered into the room, paper wrapped packages balanced carefully in his arms. He dumped them on the floor and snatched the mask away from her, locking it into a drawer and glowering at her. She scooped up her cat and stared at the floor.

"What did I tell you about staying out of my personal space?"

"I wanted to make sure Crookshanks didn't destroy anything in here or else I wouldn't have come in." He frowned.

"That was my personal property and I resent that you are so entitled to believe you could barge in and touch what is rightfully mine." They began arguing then, going back and forth about her innocence or guilt.

Finally he grabbed her arm and wrestled her back into the main room.

"Now kindly _stay out of my business_ ," he sneered, and slammed the door as he went back into his private quarters.

Hermione seethed and plopped into a chair, picking her book up and angrily cracking the spine open to where she was before the incident started.

 _He's just a mean old bully, that's all. And I wouldn't have taken kindly to find him touching my books or pictures of mum and dad. His being a Death Eater is a sensitive subject._

She did her best to become absorbed in her book and left in silence she was successful. After an hour on her own Snape finally came back in looking sullen and flopped down into the armchair.

"I need you to come with me somewhere tonight." She blinked at him and shut the book, curious. The only place they went together was the dining hall, and they separated upon getting there.

"Where?" She finally managed to sputter out, and his face grew even more grim. His mouth set in an unpleasant line and she could only assume it was someplace considerably unpleasant.

"The Dark Lord has requested your presence at our meeting tonight." Hermione blanched, but there was more. "Most wives show up with their husbands, at least a handful of times once they're married. We've been wed nearly a month and he believes it's high time you show up for at least a couple of meetings to see what your husband does."

"And the Headmaster is okay with this?" Dumbledore had approved this notion of her accompanying him to a Death Eater meeting? But really, could they say no?

"We have little choice in the matter. You will come, you will wear black and sit quietly and speak only when spoken too. That is for your survival, understand?" She almost said 'yes sir' but the one time that had slipped out he'd been furious. She corrected herself at the last minute.

"Yes Severus."

҉

That evening after eating in the Great Hall Hermione tied back her hair, powdered her face, slipped into the only black dress she owned, and came to stand next to Severus. He nodded that she was dressed appropriately and then they Apparated away.

The Malfoy Manor was imposing but beautiful. Albino peacocks, sharply trimmed hedges, and curled black iron added both charm and eeriness. Hermione tripped along in heels, her hand through her husband's arm, trying to look more like a wife and less like a child playing dress up.

She didn't sit at the long ebony table but behind it, demure and silent. Narcissa Malfoy had been kind enough to give her a small smile and welcome her but everyone else frowned or stared. Draco was there too, sitting uncomfortably with his parents. He had married Astoria Greengrass, much to everyone's surprise, and she sat behind her husband as Hermione did.

They didn't dare look at each other.

The Dark Lord swooped in then and settled in his chair. A snake slithered around the room, hissed at newcomers' feet, and returned to her master. Hermione had nearly shrieked with fright at the animal but remembered Severus' warning to keep silent. Here, around such a different crowd, she couldn't be sure what her punishment would be if she disobeyed him.

At home if there was 'disobedience' perceived by one of them a shouting match usually ensued. Here though, things would be much different. He had authority, and it wouldn't do to publicly fight with him. So she obeyed as both their lives depended on it.

"I see we have some visitors with us today," Voldemort began. Hermione stared at the floor, not sure exactly where to look or what to do. She was still and silent, but was it okay to look at him? His followers did, but she wasn't a follower.

The Dark Lord inclined his head to Astoria. "And who would you be?" The girl went pale but managed to introduce herself.

"I'm Astoria Malfoy. P-pleasure to make your acquaintance, your lordship." There was chuckling from the Death Eaters but also smiles, even a wink from her husband. Astoria had clearly said the right thing. He turned to Hermione.

"And you are?" She raised her eyes.

"I'm Hermione Snape." She should have said sir at the least, she knew, but she couldn't bring herself to choke out those three little letters. Not after he'd murdered Cedric, Harry's parents, and had indirectly made her Obliviate her own.

The Dark Lord only had the time to raise his eyebrows at her disrespect before Severus stood and slapped her across the face. She flew off her chair and landed hard on the floor, a hand to her cheek. A red mark stood out on her flesh as she stared up at him in shock and pain.

But he wasn't her husband right now, he was the Dark Lord's favorite, the spy, and she dimply knew that he _had_ to punish her or else it would have been much worse. He blinked at her and turned around, bowing to the Dark Lord.

"A thousand apologies my lord, I'm still trying to teach her proper respect." Voldemort nodded his acceptance as Hermione climbed back into her chair. She hung her head for the rest of the meeting.

Once they were back home she pulled her arm from his and marched straight for her room. She was angry, hurt, and although she could grudgingly understand his actions she did not want to accept them.

Severus caught her wrist and spun her around. Her face was beginning to develop a bruise and he cringed when he saw it. She stared at him, waiting for whatever was so important for him to say when she was in such a foul mood.

"Tonight is Saturday," he finally said and she clenched her eyes shut in disgust.

"I am _not_ going to do anything with you after what your treatment of me this evening."

"Do you think I wanted to hit you? I've never raised a hand against you before, no matter how furious I was. The Dark Lord wouldn't have let that slip. He would have tortured both us, especially you, with Crucios' and...worse." He shuddered and continued. "A slap was the least we could get away with."

She knew he was right. Sullenly she let him lead her down the hallway, away from the refuge of her room, and into his own.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Thank you everyone for your reviews! I try to reply to the ones I feel deserve a reply, like ones with constructive criticism. I appreciate all reviews though and I'm thrilled you all like the story. Merry Christmas, (late) Happy Hanukah, and Happy Kwanza!**_

The winter holiday donned white and peaceful. Severus was planning to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas—he always stayed, would always stay. There was nothing worth going home too, and it was preferable to stay here.

He went up to tell Albus he was staying—it was considered polite for professors to inform the Headmaster of their whereabouts during breaks. So here he was, again refusing lemon drops and tea, saying he was staying for Christmas.

The man instantly refused him, said that that just wouldn't do, that he was a married man with a wife and they should be home for their first Christmas. Severus sputtered, trying to come up with a good protest.

Hogwarts would have a more homey feel than any place he lived ever would; just because he was married did not mean he wanted to be stuck with said wife for two weeks with no one else for company; Hermione's friends were staying, so it would be best to stay for both of them. Albus would have none of it, shoving him out the door, insisting he leave, and have a Happy Christmas.

It took much convincing. Hermione did not want to leave, even if the Headmaster had told them to go. Why couldn't they just stay? Hogwarts was wonderful at Christmastime, and with Harry and Ron staying. That made extra incentive.

Eventually though, he swayed her, emphasizing the fact that Albus had all but ordered it, that it would be good to get out of the castle for a little while. So they each packed their things, shrunk them to fit in their pockets, and took the floo to his house, much to both of their chagrin.

They took the floo to Spinner's End. That had been his childhood home and the only place he ever maintained. Even with the terrible memories, going somewhere else felt wrong, and upset his stomach. This was where he belonged, in an old mining town in the middle of nowhere.

Hermione was kind enough not to judge when they walked into the sparse dwelling. Alvar had accompanied them and went to begin making lunch. Severus wanted more than anything to disappear into his lab, but he supposed she needed to know her way around first.

It was a small house and the tour went quickly. A parlor with the walls covered in books, though dim, made his wife smile. The kitchen could be described as 'functional' and the dining room was still set up with three chairs. He had never bothered to change it, but he would have Alvar put the extra away. Normally when he was here by himself he ate in the kitchen. The dining room had been neglected since his parents' death.

He mentioned he had a lab in the cellar. There were two bedrooms and one bathroom upstairs. The stairway was so narrow he had to go up first, at an angle, and she followed. Heaven help when she got pregnant and tried to make it up or down.

 _Pregnant? Severus just what are you suggesting?_

He shook the thought of Hermione, heavy with child from his mind and showed her the two bedrooms. The master was barely bigger than his childhood room but he had moved into it anyway.

"You may stay here, if it makes you more comfortable." It occurred to him for the first time that here she might actually prefer to share a room. After all this dim, pathetically white-washed space was terrible. A window looked over the street, the window he had watched for Lily out of. She had grown up down the street in a neighborhood of new constructions, much nicer than ashy Spinner's End.

He shook his head again to hear Hermione say she would stay in this room and give him his privacy. He left her to unpack and headed down to his lab.

Christmas would be in just a few days really, and he had nothing ready. He'd bought her a couple things but they were wrapped in brown paper, nothing festive. He had no tree, no lights or wreath.

For a while he forgot about it and focused on his potions. He brewed and stirred, calmed by the order that came out of potion making, by the smell of the ingredients. Alvar called them for lunch and they sat in the dining room eating fish sandwiches, trying to have a conversation.

She went to read after lunch and Severus asked Alvar to find a tree and some holly berries. He searched his mind for Christmases long past when his mother had put up a tree and hung ornaments. Maybe those shiny glass balls he was never allowed to touch were stowed away in the house somewhere.

He searched the house and found them in the attic. His mother had collected homemade glass ornaments but over the years they had been shoved unceremoniously in a box. The colors, once dusted off, came back to life. Lime green swirled with a too bright yellow; soft pink and lavender in dots; orange and red in a leaf pattern.

Alvar came back with the tree late that afternoon. He strung holly berries around the door and the windows that faced the street. Severus pulled down the box of ornaments and, after a moment of hesitation, began burying them in the fragrant boughs.

Hermione had been reading in her room when she came downstairs and found him in his ridiculous endeavor. He heard her gasp behind him and he turned to see her lit with joy.

"We're having a Christmas tree?" She flung the book back onto its shelf and sped over to help him with ornaments. Each one was unique and required a different sound of delight before she placed it carefully on the tree.

"Do you have lights for it?"

He thought quickly. "I thought we might charm candles instead." Candles themselves would easily burn the tree, but with the right charm to both the tree and the candles it would be fine. Hopefully.

"Oh yes that sounds lovely. And what are we going to put on top?"

That caught him off guard. Of course there had to be something to crown the tree, and once upon a time he had made a paper star as a child which had held the place of honor. But that star had disappeared, possibly ripped up by his drunken father or mistakenly thrown away.

"We always put a bow on ours," Hermione said quietly. "We tied a big one out of ribbon and put it on top. Do you have white ribbon? That could look nice." So he sent Alvar out once again to come back with ribbon and then his wife sat, tongue between her teeth in concentration. Finally a puffy white bow was produced and Severus placed it carefully and securely on top of the tree.

Candles were lit and placed, charmed carefully to avoid fire. Spinner's End hadn't looked so festive for decades. Severus felt rather pleased with himself that he had pulled it off and made the dim place feel at least a little more homey, slightly more pleasant.

"Do you have any more decorations?"

More? Severus was caught off guard. He had gone to so much trouble already to procure this, and now the girl wanted more? He thought for a moment, banging around in his head, wondering if he'd seen any more things stuffed in the attic.

"There aren't any more. Isn't this good enough?"

Her lips parted a little bit in surprise but she ducked her head and stayed quiet. He huffed and left the room, the holiday spirit which had momentarily infected him squashed out. They had known a true family moment, decorating the tree together but of course it was not to last.

He ignored her for the rest of the day until they had supper together. Alvar whipped up soup and at Hermione's insistence, occupied the third chair in the dining room. Severus was quiet but Hermione talked a mile a minute with the house elf.

Alvar was a free elf, working for a good salary for his master. That didn't mean they shared meals though. Severus ate in silence, in a bad mood while his wife and house elf laughed together. He huffed and puffed and eventually left them to lock himself in the cellar with his potions.

That night when he went up to go to sleep he found Hermione standing awkwardly in his room. He frowned and closed the door, an eyebrow raised. Hadn't they agreed to stay separate except when mandatory?

"What do you want?" He spat out, irritated and tired. She wrung her hands and finally spit out what she was there for.

"I was wondering what you wanted for Christmas. If you could make a list that would be quite helpful."

He hadn't written down what he wanted to find under the tree for decades. He sat on the bed with a scowl. This Christmas was going to be annoying for sure.

"I will do no such thing. I am not a child and will not be treated as such." He wished she would just go away so he could undress and go to bed. The day had tugged him in all different directions and he needed rest.

The hopeful look fell from her face and was replaced with a line between her eyebrows. "This is _Christmas_ we're talking about. If you don't tell me at least a few things you're interested in then you won't get anything. And I hardly think that's appropriate for our first Christmas together. Haven't you gotten me something?"

As a matter of fact he had, but she was easy to shop for. A book, a sweater, and some perfume were all stuffed under his bed. He planned to charm the brown paper to look a little more festive before he put it under the tree. But that was beside the point.

"It hardly matters if I got you anything. You know what I like—potions, books, the sort." He shrugged and rubbed his temples, wishing she would leave him be. Couldn't she tell he was stressed? Or was she truly that thick at reading other's emotions?

"Are you low on certain potions ingredients? Or should I just ask Alvar? Oh, and I was planning on getting him something, do you know what he might like?"

His already thin patience wore out with this last round of questions. He stood, temples beginning to throb, anger building in his chest. All he had wanted was to come and lie down at the end of a stressful day, was that too much to ask?

"We will discuss this in the morning. I'm tired now, get out." He practically chased her from the room and warded the door for good measure. Finally, he could sleep.

He didn't get to sleep long before Alvar was waking him up. It wasn't morning either, judging by the pitch blackness of the window panes. Alvar stood drowsily.

"Mr. Lucius Malfoy and Mrs. Bellatrix Lestrange are here, Mr. Snape. Please dress quickly and come see them." He popped out of the room then, leaving Snape to scramble to throw on his black robes and come downstairs. Of all things to happen and of all times, it would be tonight.

Lucius and Bellatrix were sitting stiffly in his shabby parlor, eyeing the tree. He swept into the room, irritated already.

"What do you all want at this time of night?"

Bellatrix stood. "We're here for a progress report on your potion."

Severus sighed and led them down to his cellar. Remnants of failed potions were strewn around the room but he reported the slightest progress, enough to please the Dark Lord. They nodded, made small talk for a minute, and finally left.

He trudged back up to bed, even more tired. Hermione stood in her doorway, wrapped in a robe with her hair even bushier than normal. She blinked sleepily but stayed quiet, merely looking at him with concern. He shook his head and closed his door, collapsing back onto his bed in exhaustion.

The next morning he woke up late, had thick black coffee and toast brought to him in the cellar, and plotted more ways to not finish that abysmal potion the Dark Lord wanted. The evil man wanted to combine the Crucio and Imperio curse in a tasteless potion which would allow him to control the person, and if they attempted to break the Imperio they would feel the pain of a Crucio curse.

He didn't surface until dinner time where he sat with his oddly pleased looking wife and house elf. The two kept exchanging secret smiles and then realizing it and trying to look normal. Severus ate silently and then went back to his potions, shaking his head at their antics.

Christmas Eve eventually dawned, freezing cold but without snow. Severus woke early and placed Hermione's presents under the tree, charming the paper to have pretty patterns on it. He sat sipping on tea and reading the paper until Hermione surfaced, fresh faced with a smile.

She saw the presents and grinned like a child but wisely said nothing. She asked for part of the paper and they both sat, sipping tea and reading somewhat amicably.

It occurred to Severus that perhaps Albus wasn't entirely wrong when he said they would make a good match. But he shook his head to clear that thought away and stirred up memories of their many arguments.

They were quiet for a while together which was both surprising and nice. Hermione finished with the paper and asked if she could use the floo to visit the Weasley's. Severus grudgingly agreed and asked that she be back by the late afternoon.

After she was gone he slipped into a coat and went out. He bought a couple poinsettia blossoms and made his way to the cemetery to visit his mother. His father was there too but Severus purposely neglected that grave. He only occasionally attended his mother's.

It started to sleet as he placed the flowers at her tombstone. It seemed silly to speak to her as if she was still there, but at her graveside it was easy to feel her presence. So he filled her in on the major happenings of his life—his wedding to the Granger girl and their tumultuous marriage mainly.

His mother had died years ago and although his childhood had left a lot to be desired, his mother had tried. He had been keenly aware of how hard she tried his entire life. She'd protected him, loved him, encouraged him. Yes, there had been times when she snapped at him or said a harsh word, when she was too tired or stressed to bother with a mundane but happy detail of his life. But she had tried so hard.

The fresh poinsettias were encased with ice by the time he finally left. Alvar had a fire ready for him and he sipped on some mulled cider, reading an essay about the latest innovations in potions. Hermione popped back in with flushed cheeks and ice in her hair, laughter still in her mouth. Without missing a beat she filled him in on all the joy at the Weasley burrow. All the joy that was so very absent in their own dwelling.

That night they ate a good meal, bundled up, and went to the Christmas Eve service at a small church nearby. Severus had been going for years, ever since he was a child. Hermione took in the sight of the candles and fresh boughs of evergreen with an almost serene look on her face.

It was a beautiful service which let out at midnight. They walked home arm in arm (only to keep from slipping on the ice and snow) and wisely didn't speak to each other. They said a polite goodnight to each other and slipped into their respective beds.

His nose woke him up the next morning. The smell of muffins had seeped under the door and he followed it after throwing on some clothes. His wife and house elf were pulling piping hot blueberry muffins from the oven just as he rounded the corner. She looked up with a smile.

"Happy Christmas Severus!" And she bounded over like a gazelle, took his hand, and pulled him into the parlor with the Christmas tree.

Alvar joined them with mugs of hot chocolate and a platter of muffins. Severus gracefully let Hermione open her gifts first. She ripped them open and he could see, easily, how she must have looked on Christmas mornings past in her pajamas with her parents.

She thanked him profusely for all the gifts, especially the book. Alvar opened his, one from each of them. A book from Hermione, of course, and a pocket watch from Severus.

Then it was Severus' turn. His wife looked at him happily as he carefully removed the paper from a bottle of unicorn tears, one of the most expensive potions ingredients. It was a shockingly nice present, not that he had been cheap with her presents. Chanel perfume was pricey.

She had gifted him a book of essays about potion making and a scarf too. Christmas hadn't been the disaster he'd thought it would be. Hermione had smiled and laughed, was kind and cheerful. She told stories of her favorite Christmases past and he surprised himself by recounting the one pleasant holiday he could remember.

It was a good day, a wonderful day. At least until they realized that evening, after a dinner of chestnut soup, mince pies and a chocolate yule log for dessert, that tonight was Saturday.

They stayed up late, sipping mulled cider in front of a dying fire. Hermione was curled up with her book and Severus was doing nothing and enjoying it. But he finished his cider, put both their cups away, and she knew to shut her book.

"Your room or mine?" She asked carefully as they made their way toward the stairs. That was a good question he realized. Did he want to do this in his old bedroom that he'd slept in as a child? Or in his parents' bedroom? Neither option was good and he didn't like the idea of making the decision, so he turned to his wife.

"Wherever you would be more comfortable." He had never let her decide before and she looked at him in surprise before asking him to come to her room.

 _How interesting,_ he thought, _that when I used to lust for Lily I would do so from this very room. And now I have a wife who isn't Lily, my parents are dead, Lily is dead, and the Ministry wants us to produce a child._

A child. Merlin's bullocks, he'd almost forgotten about that.

 _ **Thank for reading! Now if you'd be so kind, I'd really appreciate some reviews. Happy holidays everyone.**_


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